…I wouldn’t be who I am.
Or more accurately, with his presence in my life, I wouldn’t be who I am.
Allow me to explain:
I think my parents were a bit unlike my peers’ parents.
My little brother and I could identify each playing card in a standard deck by the time were in pre-school, because we grew up playing things like Canasta, Cribbage, Hearts, and Rummy…not on a computer. Cold cereal was a treat, because my mom only let us eat it on weekends–she insisted on making a hot breakfast every morning because it was “better for your brains.” We didn’t get “screen time” after school because my parents made us go outside and play (the horror!)…or pull weeds (a once-actual horror I now find relaxing). We didn’t get an allowance because pitching in was part of the deal when you’re in a family. We ate dinner together. Every. Damn. Night.
(Applause for all of that. Seriously.)
And although that all sounds pretty normal, it definitely was not and still is not something you find very often (sadly). To top that off, my parents did have a few…off-the-beaten path rules and philosophies of sorts.
For starters, in the evenings, when my brother and I wanted to watch television, my parents would make us give them a back massage or scratch their backs for a good 10 minutes or so before they would let us (fucking brilliant). We were also schooled in the classics, because we were told their lessons would never leave us. To be clear, by classics I mean Animal House, Dirty Dancing, Mystic Pizza, The Breakfast Club, and The Princess Bride (just to name a handful)–and she was right. In fact, someone as wise as my mother wrote a book on it. Curfews and grounding were not so much a thing in our house–my dad simply said he’d give us enough rope to hang ourselves. Morbid I know, but trust is a powerful deterrent. And finally, we were not allowed to watch Captain Planet. Or more specifically, I was not allowed to watch it–my brother never wanted to.
Yep. I could watch Pretty Woman but not Captain Planet.
To be honest, I really don’t know why, but I remember what my dad used to say: you’ll grow up to be a ‘tree-hugger.’
Welcome to my blog, HippyDippyHappiness, Mom and Dad! If you would have just let me watch Captain Planet, this never would have happened!
A few things to keep in mind:
- If I can replicate what my parents did with me with me, I will do it. In fact, it’s what I will aim for. Because it has took me 27 years, 5 months, 25 days, and nearly 17 hours to unearth the woman they created and helped build, and I love her.
- Eating whole foods. Organic products. Kombucha. Chia seeds. Composting. Even Recycling. These things really weren’t trendy yet when I was young. Especially not in small rural corner of Colorado where I grew up.
- And my parents just aren’t those people, and that is okay.
But they did produce one. Sort of.
I’m actually a pretty regular 27-year old female metropolitan Millennial (with a serious alliteration problem). I don’t have chickens living in my tiny Washington, D.C. apartment. Nor a compost bin on my patio (though I’m researching). I’m not a vegan (not that that isn’t normal; I just mean it’s not me). In fact, I’m not a vegetarian. And I do derive a steady income from a very-DC day job.
But lately, I’ve been giving a lot of thought to how I ‘vibrate at a high frequency’ (see this book for the reference; read it at your own risk–it may blow up your life) and live a more conscious and intentional life. And in a lot of ways, I suspect this blog will be my personal vision board, built in community, of that life.
What you’ll find here are the things I am learning and looking into. How I am trying to live more simply (and I adopt Tsh Oxenreider’s definition of that–living holistically with your life’s purpose). Beautiful things. And other badasses who are living lives I admire and aspire to.
May you find joy (+ Earth, Wind, Fire, Water & Heart).
“You need to blame him much more powerfully. You need to blame him consciously. Effectively. Because if you are going to blame people for all the shit, you better blame them for all the good to. If you’re going to give them credit for everything that is fucked up, then you have to give them credit for everything that’s great….Blame elegantly. Blame intelligently. Blame effectively. Blame at the level of your soul. Not the level of your fucking head.”
Toni Robbins, I’m Not Your Guru